


Love Language

by beautiful_as_endless



Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautiful_as_endless/pseuds/beautiful_as_endless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Birthday gift para sa anak-anakan ko]</p><p>Spoken word isn't the only way for you to let someone know that you love them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Language

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up lang, I'm leaving ategirl's name ambiguous. Hihi.

It was a beautiful yet unremarkable Friday. The university courtyard was filled to the brim with students - some of them knee deep in their studies for their prelim exams and others practicing for some presentation or another. Nonong Quezon made his way to the small spot at the edge of the courtyard, on one of the pink tile benches surrounding the trees that reached up to the blue skies.

His arms were laden with workbooks that he had to answer within the next two hours, and he hoped that the collective chaos of the courtyard would help him concentrate.

He set down his workbooks beside him and uttered a quiet cuss directed at his minor subjects when some of them tumbled down the bench. He scrambled to pick them up but someone beat him to it. Before he knew it, a girl was already handing him his books with a small grin.

She was quite tall and pretty, probably a freshman like him. Her glossy hair tumbled down her shoulders, almost concealing a pair of white earphones.

"Salamat, ha?" he mumbled sheepishly as he returned to his bench, taking out a pen from his pocket to get started on his work.

She waved at him airily to acknowledge his words, then sat at the other side of the bench. The smile never left her face as she started to write on her pad of yellow paper.

Nonong turned back to his own work and began to meticulously answer his workbooks. He supposed that answering them was better than being knee deep in exam reviewers.

A few minutes of silence passed between the two of them, punctuated only by the sounds of their pens gliding over paper and the students around them. He couldn't help but steal curious glances at the girl every now and then, but she seemed oblivious to everything but her schoolwork and whatever music it was that she was listening to.

She caught him staring once but said nothing. She merely gave him a small nod before turning back to her work.

He finally made it to the last question on the last workbook when his pen stopped working. Letting out a quiet string of profanities, he shook his pen angrily despite the fact that it refused to cooperate. It took him more than a few minutes before he finally gave up on it. He looked up at the girl, but she seemed too engrossed on her work to notice his distress.

"Miss?" he began.

She didn't seem to notice him, not even when he tried to get her attention over and over again. He had no choice but to reach out and tap her shoulder. She looked up at him, a little startled. She relaxed when she realized that it was him though, and inclined her head to acknowledge him.

"Pwede ko bang mahiram sandali yung ballpen mo?" he asked.

A small frown creased her face as she pointed at her earphones. It seemed like the music playing was too loud for him to hear. He pointed at her pen and mimed writing on his book. Her frown gave way to her customary smile and she deigned to lend her pen, watching as he scribbled the last few words on his book.

He handed the pen back to her with a quick word of thanks. She seemed to understand that, at least, as she gave him a bright, lovely smile.

Work finally done, he was ready to face his last classes for the day. As he still had her attention, he pointed to his books, then the side entrance to the courtyard, hoping that she would understand.

She did.

Seeing her acknowledgement, he picked up his books, thanked her for lending him the pen again, and headed out of the courtyard.

* * *

 

The next Friday arrived too soon. Nonong returned, this time armed with a general psychology book. He had a report coming up and he decided to review his topic instead of following Goyong and Ed to the arcades.

He found the girl sitting on the same bench, her earphones still in place. She was reading a comic book this time, though she looked up as he sat down on his usual spot. She gave him another of her fleeting, beautiful smiles. She took out a small pad of sticky notes and her pen, scribbling down a small message before sticking a sheet on his book.

_Hi. Long time no see?_

He took the pad that she offered him. Fumbling in his pocket for his new pen, he scrawled a quick message too, sticking it on her comic book.

_Oo nga eh. Lagi ka bang nandito?_

She smiled and nodded. She wrote her name, sticking it beside her first message. He gave her his name in turn. He also followed it up with another question too.

_Ano ba yang pinapakinggan mo? Share naman._

She paused, as if studying him, before scribbling her answer.

_Special na kanta. Minsan ipaparinig ko din sayo._

They spent the next few hours exchanging notes. Nonong found himself enjoying it more than a regular conversation would have. A smile lit up his face when they finally parted ways for their next classes.

* * *

It went on for the next few weeks, with him dropping by the courtyard during his two hour breaks every Friday. His friends teased him nonstop for it but he found that he didn't really care. He was enjoying his sticky note conversations with his new friend.

He learned a lot about her over the flurry of exchanges. She was, indeed, a freshman. While he was taking a course in communication, she was taking up literature. She told him about the woes of being the eldest child, and he in turn talked about being the youngest. They spoke of hobbies and dreams, of things that made them strive harder in life. He found himself enchanted by her, curious about the fact that she had never spoken directly to him - not even once - and eager to learn more about her.

The weeks blended into months. From the sporadic rain and watery sunshine that greeted their schooldays in that July afternoon, pearly gray and overcast October skies now watched over them.

Slowly but surely, he was realizing that he was falling for her.

It was the last day of the semester, and he found himself heading for the courtyard with a heavy heart. He didn't know if he would be seeing her again the next semester. Their weekly meetings have been something that he was looking forward too, something that pushed him to do well in school.

He found her in her usual seat, unfazed when he sat right beside her. She was already armed with her pad of sticky notes, just like him. She took him by surprise though, leaning forward to brush stray locks of hair away from his face before sticking her message on his forehead with an impish grin. Written on it was her phone number.

He can feel his cheeks burning red when he jotted down his phone number and stuck his note on the palm on her hand. She stared at him, tapping her cheek, before she started to write again. She stuck the note on his lap, the pale pink paper a stark contrast to his black pants.

_Gusto mo na bang marinig yung pinapakinggan kong kanta?_

That sent a thrill down his gut. He knew that it was something that meant a lot to her, after all. His fingers trembled as he stuck his note on her uniform, the baby blue paper complimenting the grays of her skirt.

 _Oo naman_.

She took off one of her earphones and tucked it in his ear. He braced himself for whatever music it was that she had been listening, whatever music it was that prevented them from hearing each other for the past months. A small frown creased his face when he realized that he couldn't hear anything.

He looked up to see her scribbling on her pad, carefully, meticulously placing her messages on his backpack.

_Wala akong pandinig._

_Hindi rin ako makapagsalita._

His gut ached when he saw the insecurity in her eyes. How many people had bullied her, hurt her for not conforming to society's standards and expectations? He carefully wrote his next message, sticking it on her palm, letting the red ink of his pen speak for himself.

_It doesn't make you any less of a person._

Her eyes teared up as she read his message. She turned to him, and he thought he could see so many unspoken words etched on her face. He reached forward to wipe off a crystalline tear that fell from her eye before planting a kiss on her forehead.

He carefully stuck his next message to her arm.

_You're beautiful. You're smart. You're funny. Nainlove ako at wala na akong hanapin pa._

She pointed disbelievingly to herself. He didn't need words - both spoken and written - to understand what she meant.

He nodded. He watched as the sadness on her face was replaced by hope. She scribbled furiously, sticking her message on his chin.

_Mahal din kita._


End file.
